2/? – When Ghosts Lose Their Haunt

Maybe it’s just me, but whenever I find my world freezing in time with a decent forecast of crashing skies and improbable chances of recovery, my battle scars become even more relevant and haunting. That headspace, through repetition, has become increasingly familiar throughout my time on this planet; I will let you be the judge on which side of the blessing/curse argument it falls under, like we discussed last time. One of the major through-lines in my life would have to be the multi-decade waltz I’ve had with my own skeletons. The constant battle of words with high and mighty undertones when the ghosts of the past demonstrate their perfect recall ability through step-by-step examples of my failures. It’s as if they were told that only the flawless of them could throw stones, and the entire room made the cut.

Now if I’m being honest with myself, I know I could sit here and verbally paint a fantastical version of myself as some type of emotional demon slayer; like I should be brooding in the darkest corner of a crowded bar while the waitresses argue over who will risk their lives while taking my order. I could tell everyone to gather around the campfire as I tell the tales of horrific mind beasts that I fought admirably, and victoriously, as the story concludes with their trophy heads on the mantle of my own brain. However, if I were to choose that path, then this entire project would deserve its place on the shelves labeled as fiction, and that would be counterproductive to everything I am trying to accomplish with every word on this screen.

The truth is that my overall track record with going through tribulations could be best described as being buckled into a struggle bus that’s barreling down the road of life, similar to a bowling ball thrown by a 7-year-old with the side bumpers active. Being the hindsight expert that I am, the levels of cringe I experience when looking back have reached the deepest shades of red and I’m the one that broke the lever. I imagine some of you relate to this; where you end up surviving whatever the original predicament is, and yet the biggest scars you acquire come from your own decisions while traversing that emotional valley.

“Quit complaining, M3thods. We all have stuff we deal with and we still go on with our lives…”

I hear ya. Maybe I am being overly dramatic, or perhaps these words are intentional because they better define who the man is that’s typing each letter you are currently reading; so our journey moving forward is easier to digest with what could be either enjoyable and relatable content or the concerning ramblings of a mad man. The safe bet in that case would probably be somewhere in the gray area between the two, but we are just getting started so I guess we will find out together.

Side note: This feels like that final scene in Fight Club when he says “You met me at a very strange time in my life” and it’s probably wise to read this through that comparative lens for the foreseeable future.

“Fair enough. Maybe I need an example of one of these so-called ghosts you are talking about.”

Sure. If I had to pick a solid representation, it would be the ghost that reminds me of all the times people I cared about decided to either leave me behind or I fell on my own sword due to personal demons and false narratives playing in my head on repeat. When they went from my Top 8 on Myspace to where I couldn’t even tell you a single thing going on in their lives today, and that ‘friendly reminder’ ghost has zero issues with explaining to me how I was the puppet-master of such friendship devastation. How they surely must be better off without me and my only heroic character arc in life will be me protecting the world from my own toxicity.

You see, I spent many years becoming familiar with such darkness, accepting my fate of being an outcast and at least allowing myself to get frighteningly good at it; when you go past being upset and feeling worthless, to diving headfirst into a sea full of numb and tragic acceptance. When the tears begin to go dormant, and the ghost starts its lecture on how your life is beneath the ones around you; like a cursed soul forced to walk the streets and simply spectate others living what seems to be considered a normal life.

“Thanks for all the doomporn, M3. I don’t like how this makes me feel and…”

You should try to patience harder since I have now brought it to where I wanted us to really talk. If we can agree that everyone has dealt with past decisions or circumstances that haunt our present selves, then can you agree that there could be a benefit to understanding how they operate? Comprehending their patterns of behavior, like a foreign enemy worth keeping an eye on?

The thing about the past is that you can’t change it, but you can make it all the more worse by lying to yourself about it. I mean, I can’t be the only one who sees the world becoming increasingly megalomaniac (I will wait for you to look that word up, you’re welcome) and almost immune to even considering any moments of inner reflection or humility, let alone correcting their shortcomings when proven to be wrong in their stances. The world’s stockpile of guilt over repercussions for personal actions seem to be reaching its famine stage. Where we position ourselves to be codependent on outcomes that are ultimately out of our control, therefore becoming defensive thought-victims when conflicting concepts disrespect our emotional distancing guidelines.

“Why are you talking shit about society now?”

Perfect question. Wish I had thought of it. I’m merely pointing out that the world has assembled their power structure through convincing people to subconsciously (sometimes even comfortably) become their own gods. I’m not going down that rabbit hole just yet, but this is being highlighted because it coincides with how I learned to turn that ghost of mine into a positive constant reminder; that my haunted life was preparation to be familiar with the shadows, as the darkness of what I consider satanic influence continues its assault on the hearts and souls of those distracted with battling the ghosts of their own. I have plenty to say about society and there’s a time and a place for all that, which is something I should’ve spent a lot more time respecting in the past.

So, I will ask again. Do you think it’s worth understanding and at least attempting to conquer whatever is haunting you?

Maybe it’s just me, but whenever I find my world freezing in time with a decent forecast of crashing skies and improbable chances of recovery, my battle scars become even more relevant and haunting. That headspace, through repetition, has become increasingly familiar throughout my time on this planet; I will let you be the judge on which side of the blessing/curse argument it falls under, like we discussed last time. One of the major through-lines in my life would have to be the multi-decade waltz I’ve had with my own skeletons. The constant battle of words with high and mighty undertones when the ghosts of the past demonstrate their perfect recall ability through step-by-step examples of my failures. It’s as if they were told that only the flawless of them could throw stones, and the entire room made the cut.

Now if I’m being honest with myself, I know I could sit here and verbally paint a fantastical version of myself as some type of emotional demon slayer; like I should be brooding in the darkest corner of a crowded bar while the waitresses argue over who will risk their lives while taking my order. I could tell everyone to gather around the campfire as I tell the tales of horrific mind beasts that I fought admirably, and victoriously, as the story concludes with their trophy heads on the mantle of my own brain. However, if I were to choose that path, then this entire project would deserve its place on the shelves labeled as fiction, and that would be counterproductive to everything I am trying to accomplish with every word on this screen.

The truth is that my overall track record with going through tribulations could be best described as being buckled into a struggle bus that’s barreling down the road of life, similar to a bowling ball thrown by a 7-year-old with the side bumpers active. Being the hindsight expert that I am, the levels of cringe I experience when looking back have reached the deepest shades of red and I’m the one that broke the lever. I imagine some of you relate to this; where you end up surviving whatever the original predicament is, and yet the biggest scars you acquire come from your own decisions while traversing that emotional valley.

“Quit complaining, M3thods. We all have stuff we deal with and we still go on with our lives…”

I hear ya. Maybe I am being overly dramatic, or perhaps these words are intentional because they better define who the man is that’s typing each letter you are currently reading; so our journey moving forward is easier to digest with what could be either enjoyable and relatable content or the concerning ramblings of a mad man. The safe bet in that case would probably be somewhere in the gray area between the two, but we are just getting started so I guess we will find out together.

Side note: This feels like that final scene in Fight Club when he says “You met me at a very strange time in my life” and it’s probably wise to read this through that comparative lens for the foreseeable future.

“Fair enough. Maybe I need an example of one of these so-called ghosts you are talking about.”

Sure. If I had to pick a solid representation, it would be the ghost that reminds me of all the times people I cared about decided to either leave me behind or I fell on my own sword due to personal demons and false narratives playing in my head on repeat. When they went from my Top 8 on Myspace to where I couldn’t even tell you a single thing going on in their lives today, and that ‘friendly reminder’ ghost has zero issues with explaining to me how I was the puppet-master of such friendship devastation. How they surely must be better off without me and my only heroic character arc in life will be me protecting the world from my own toxicity.

You see, I spent many years becoming familiar with such darkness, accepting my fate of being an outcast and at least allowing myself to get frighteningly good at it; when you go past being upset and feeling worthless, to diving headfirst into a sea full of numb and tragic acceptance. When the tears begin to go dormant, and the ghost starts its lecture on how your life is beneath the ones around you; like a cursed soul forced to walk the streets and simply spectate others living what seems to be considered a normal life.

“Thanks for all the doomporn, M3. I don’t like how this makes me feel and…”

You should try to patience harder since I have now brought it to where I wanted us to really talk. If we can agree that everyone has dealt with past decisions or circumstances that haunt our present selves, then can you agree that there could be a benefit to understanding how they operate? Comprehending their patterns of behavior, like a foreign enemy worth keeping an eye on?

The thing about the past is that you can’t change it, but you can make it all the more worse by lying to yourself about it. I mean, I can’t be the only one who sees the world becoming increasingly megalomaniac (I will wait for you to look that word up, you’re welcome) and almost immune to even considering any moments of inner reflection or humility, let alone correcting their shortcomings when proven to be wrong in their stances. The world’s stockpile of guilt over repercussions for personal actions seem to be reaching its famine stage. Where we position ourselves to be codependent on outcomes that are ultimately out of our control, therefore becoming defensive thought-victims when conflicting concepts disrespect our emotional distancing guidelines.

“Why are you talking shit about society now?”

Perfect question. Wish I had thought of it. I’m merely pointing out that the world has assembled their power structure through convincing people to subconsciously (sometimes even comfortably) become their own gods. I’m not going down that rabbit hole just yet, but this is being highlighted because it coincides with how I learned to turn that ghost of mine into a positive constant reminder; that my haunted life was preparation to be familiar with the shadows, as the darkness of what I consider satanic influence continues its assault on the hearts and souls of those distracted with battling the ghosts of their own. I have plenty to say about society and there’s a time and a place for all that, which is something I should’ve spent a lot more time respecting in the past.

So, I will ask again. Do you think it’s worth understanding and at least attempting to conquer whatever is haunting you?